


Favour

by Angela_Lane



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angela_Lane/pseuds/Angela_Lane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Hook returns from Neverland to settle an old score.<br/>Warning: Homoerotica, mildly graphic scene; rated for chapter two.<br/>Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time or any of its characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hooked

**Chapter One**

**Hooked**

 

Hook sat on a fallen tree, waiting for dusk to fall. He’d returned from Neverland once more, in order to settle an old score.

 

He hadn’t seen this land in nearly ten years. For the past decade, he’d pondered his encounter with the little imp, the Dark One… Milah’s husband.

 

For ten years, Hook had reflected, recalled, remembered and pondered about that one man, Rumplestiltskin. At first, he’d hated the bastard! He’d hated the pathetic cripple in the bar for being cowed by his wife; he’d hated the snivelling coward on his deck, and he’d hated the nasty little creature the man had somehow become. And, above all, he hated him for Milah.

 

Rumplestiltskin had been a coward and a failure; a humiliation to the woman they’d both loved. The first time Killian had seen the runt, in the pub, he’d secretly commended the beggar for having the balls to retrieve his wife. The cruelty that had dripped from the woman’s tongue hadn’t deterred him, but surely had hurt him. But, that commendation turned to scorn as the man allowed his woman to abuse him so. He was weak; Hook hated weakness.

            But then, he saw Baefire. The boy had witnessed what no child should; his mother disgracing his father. But Killian paid it no mind. It was Milah’s business.

 

The second time he’d seen Rumplestiltskin, the little insect had snivelled and begged for his wife. He’d _cried_ , for God’s sake! The sight of the pathetic little man had disgusted him. _How could a man be so weak?_ he’d thought. _If he’d loved her, he’d fight for her!_ And when the whelp hadn’t picked up the blade, it sickened him further; he wasn’t even worth the effort to kill.

 

The last time he’d seen Rumplestiltskin, he was the Dark One. At first, he’d been curious, then annoyed. And when the bastard taunted him, he’d been pissed off.

            But, when he’d ripped Milah’s heart from her chest, he’d been consumed by blind rage. He’d promised her he’d take care of her! That he’d take her everywhere; that they’d be together always…

            And the scaly little crocodile had cut off his hand. The pain and shock from Milah’s death and the blade through his flesh was enough to keep him from going after the creature. Instead, he ran. He’d used the bean and ran like the coward he’d always thought Rumplestiltskin to be. _But I was surviving! There was no way he’d –_ and it hit him. He realised that, just as the frightened, crippled peasant pleading for his wife would have no chance of winning a duel with him (for he certainly would not have played fair, in any circumstance), he had no chance at winning against the Dark One.

            His heart skipped a beat, his chest tightened and his blood ran cold as the realisation struck. Now, when remembering the crying peasant on the deck of his ship, he knew how wretched he’d been.

 

So now, he waited. He waited for Rumplestiltskin to appear.

X

Even before the sun set, Rumplestiltskin knew someone awaited him in the Enchanted Forest. He could feel the pull of their heart, the desperation of their soul. He saw a snippet of their thoughts; a crying man, a dead woman – Milah. He knew who awaited him… _but why?_

 

Against his better judgement, he appeared in the forest, a little ways behind the pirate.

            As he watched, the captain’s shoulders hunched as he held his face in his hand, his hook resting over his knee. He knew the man wouldn’t leave; he could feel it radiating from him.

 

He waited a few long moments, merely watching the pirate, waiting for any sign of trickery. When none were apparent, he finally showed himself, appearing before the man who’d stolen his wife.

 

“Well, well, well,” he tease, placing his hands on his hips. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Captain Hook? Have you come to gut me? Perhaps another duel? Or… do you intend to rip out my heart?” He rolled his R on ‘rip’, a condescending tone meant to rile the pirate.

            “No,” came the soft reply. The man had yet to look up from his knees.

            “You’re not here for a deal…” mused the imp. “How may I…” he stopped, cut off by the look on the pirate’s face when he finally met his gaze.

 

A long moment passed in silence, neither looking away.

            “What is it, dearie? How may the Dark One aid such a prolific pirate?” his words were soft, but firm. The look on the other’s face confused him.

            “I… don’t know.”

X

Killian Jones, Captain Hook, pirate, plunderer, and gentleman lady-charmer… did not have the words to express his need to see Rumplestiltskin. He knew he’d come to settle past grievances, yet he didn’t have the words; he didn’t want to make himself look even more of a fool than he already had.

            “You don’t know?” He detected a slightly disbelieving tone. “You’ve come to waste my time? Is that your revenge? Then, bravo, dearie. You have succeeded.” The little creature mockingly applauded him before turning to leave.

 

Before he knew what he was doing, Hook stood and reached out, grabbing Rumplestiltskin’s wrist. “Wait!” he cringed at the pathetic desperation in his voice. “Wait,” he repeated in a softer tone, not releasing the bony wrist.

X

He knew his departure would cause reaction… but this? The fool pirate was lucky he didn’t cut off his _other_ hand.

            Looking over his shoulder, he saw the hesitant but determined look the man now sported.

            “Tick, tock, dearie,” he teased ad he turned to face Hook once more.

            “I –” he cut himself off, looking down, seemingly unable to form the correct words. He knelt once more.

            “I haven’t got all night.” He became impatient.

 

He removed his arm from the pirate’s grip, waiting to see what the proud man would do. He still suspected some kind of trick or attack, but none came.

X

Hook still could not find a way to speak his mind. He stared at the ground under his knees for another long moment, before an idea hit him.

 

Slowly, he drew his sword, looking up to watch Rumplestiltskin’s face, hoping he didn’t perceive him as a threat.

            Balancing the sword’s tip on his hook, the grip in his open palm, Hook raised the weapon in offering to the man he’d so cruelly humiliated.

 

Another long, silent moment passed, their eyes locked until, finally, Hook bowed his head.

            It was all he had.

X

Rumplestiltskin watched silently for another minute before speaking.

            “What would I do with a sword?” he scrunched up his face, baring his teeth.

            “I –” he cut off the response, holding up a hand.

            “What do you want, pirate?” he narrowed his eyes, frustrated. “Speak, or I will leave.”

X

Before he could think about the words spilling from his lips, Hook spoke.

            “I was wretched,” he spoke softly, bringing his sword down and meeting the other’s dark gaze. He received no reply, so continued. “You… you had courage when searching for Milah that first night. Even when she insulted your honour, you stayed… you didn’t become angry or raise your hand…

            “I thought you were a coward, unable to stand up to your woman. But you were there for your son.

            “And when you came to my ship, begging for her, I thought you pathetic… you refused to fight. And now, I realise it was survival. You knew you couldn’t win. You refused because… one parent was better than none.” He paused, voice cracking as he stood before Rumplestiltskin. The imp remained silent.

X

“When you reappeared, as you are now, I knew I could not win. I would die… and Milah stopped you. The look on your face –”

            “Stop!” he hissed. The bastard _dared_ speak to _him_ in such a manner?

            “I hated you for so long. I’ve been in Neverland for nearly ten years, thinking about you… every day.”

 

Rumplestiltskin was… speechless. Nearly.

            “Little old me?” he splayed a hand on his chest and batted his eyes mockingly.

            “Yes. I understand… you’re a survivor. Surviving is not cowardice. And now I know.

            “I have nothing to offer in compensation but my sword; my… favour.” _Service_ , he thought dourly.

 

Rumplestiltskin watched silently, looking for any hint of deceit as he searched Hook’s face.

            “Your favour,” he grinned wickedly. “Is that not what ladies give to their sweethearts? Their ‘twue woves’?” he stepped closer to the taller man, placing a hand over his heart. Hook flinched, obviously remembering the last time that hand had touched him. “Tell me, fair maiden,” he giggled, “what good is your favour?” he curled a finger under the cotton of Hook’s tunic peeking over the top of his leather vest.

            “It is all I have,” came the terse reply.

            “I see,” he stepped back. “It’s not good enough, dearie.” He sneered viciously, baiting.

            “Liar.” The word was heated, finally showing some of the old captain.

 

 _That’s more like it_ , he smirked.


	2. Rumpled

**Chapter Two**

**Rumpled**

 

Hook glared at the stubborn little imp before him. How _dare_ he say that his favour wasn’t good enough! How _dare_ he mock him and call him ‘maiden’! He’d heard of the prices this man asked; if it held personal value, it would be enough. Gold meant nothing to this man.

 

“Liar? Me?” Rumplestiltskin’s voice rose in a mocking tone as he pointed to himself and grinned. Hook clenched his jaw, refusing to react as violently as he so desperately wished; it would accomplish nothing.

            “Yes. You would have use of my services.” He paused, watching the man’s face for a reaction. Nothing. “I am _trying_ to be a gentleman. I am righting a wrong.” He glared at the Dark One once more.

X

Rumplestiltskin smirked at the captain’s flare of temper. Until, of course, he so boldly claimed to be ‘righting a wrong’.

            “Indeed?” he sneered, stepping into Hook’s personal space again. “Pray tell, how will your _service_ … _ever_ make amends for what you did?” he hissed, scrunching up his face in anger. “You presume to know my _pain_? My _humiliation_?” His voice grew vicious as he snarled in the captain’s face. “You presume to know how it _felt_ to _beg_ for the life of an ungrateful _whore_?” His hands snaked up Hook’s chest to fist in the cotton of the tunic. “Do you know, _Captain_ , how it felt to tell my son that his mother had _died_ because _…_ ” he gasped suddenly, his chest clenching in anger and sorrow, “because she despised the cowardly cripple she wished had died in war?” He felt the tears welling and blinked them away.

            “No,” Hook’s voice was rough, as though he too were overcome.

            “Then how do you think your service will ever make up for that? For taking a boy’s mother?” His voice had become a low whisper in his anger, his fists tightening around the tunic.

            “It’s all I have,” the man repeated, sounding oddly calm, yet sad. Rumplestiltskin’s anger flared again; he shoved the captain down, on his back, into the leaf litter and dirt.

            “It. Isn’t. Good enough!” he screamed, kneeling over Hook’s calm form, gripping his face in one hand.

            “Then kill me. Take my heart. I am… yours.”

X

Killian refused to back out. He _was_ a gentleman and he would live by his own moral. If his life was all he could give to Rumplestiltskin, so be it.

 

“You would offer your life for another’s moment of pain? You would throw away your heart for a monster?” There was raw anger and pain in the Dark One’s soft hisses, and Hook felt his chest tighten in a familiar wave of guilt.

            “Yes,” he whispered. “But you are no monster. You’re a man; a desperate man with too much power to know what to do with.” And he knew his words to be true; the imp’s face seemed to soften into anguish from rage.

            Tears fell down gold-dusted cheeks as the dark eyes squeezed shut.

            “Stop. Stop it…” the soft, desperate pleas wafted to Hook’s ears as the most powerful man in the known worlds wept before him.

 

Again, he found his body moving of its own accord; his hand reached up to the sorcerer’s cheek and wiped away his tears. The cool, dark eyes opened at the touch, searching his face for what, he didn’t know, but Rumplestiltskin didn’t move from his caress.

            He softened into the touch, leaning in slightly as Hook ran a gentle thumb over his tear-stained cheek.

X

The warmth of Hook’s hand against his cheek soothed some of Rumplestiltskin’s heartache. He was still suspicious of the pirate, yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

            “Your service,” he murmured, testing the word. Hook merely held his gaze, allowing Rumplestiltskin the opportunity to both collect himself and study the unusual man beneath him.

 

The hand on his cheek slipped away, only to find purchase on his neck; the thumb stroking along his throat gently, before he felt a gentle pressure pulling him down.

            At first, Rumplestiltskin thought the man meant to try and choke him, but soon found that Hook was rising to meet him; his eyes flitting from the mage’s to his lips and back, before, finally, their lips met in a sweet, almost chaste kiss as they lay back in the leaf litter.

X

It seemed he had no control over his body that day, Hook mused, humming into the kiss. He was surprised that the powerful little man had allowed it. He was pleased, however, when he felt the kiss being returned.

            Gently, hesitantly, Rumplestiltskin participated more and more… until Hook was gripping his hair and clashing their mouths together in heated, sloppy kisses.

            They nipped and sucked and nibbled each other’s mouths, moaning softly, allowing hands to roam freely.

 

Soon, they found themselves grinding and bucking into each other, their ragged breath mingling as the tight leather breeches they each wore constricted their growing arousals.

 

Killian palmed the smaller man’s crotch through the leather, groaning into the little kisses he was currently littering along the gold and green throat. The needy little whine these actions elicited encouraged him to deftly loosen the laces of both their breeches.

            Rumplestiltskin froze a little, seemingly hesitant. The imp’s head rested on his shoulder, warm breath puffing against his throat as one dangerous little hand rested against his neck, fingers gently caressing and twirling in the ends of his hair.

            “Yes?” he asked, giving a brief squeeze to the insistent bulge. He need only wait a moment before he received his reply.

            “Yes,” the urgent little hiss puffed along his jaw as the imp resumed his own kisses.

X

The feeling of Hook’s hand roaming his body made Rumplestiltskin nervous… and excited. It had been a long time since he’d been touched. Milah was his first and last; his only. And he’d killed her.

 

Just as his thoughts were taking a darker path, Hook’s hand found his arousal, rubbing and grinding his own frantically.

            He stilled, unsure as to whether he wanted to proceed.

            “Yes?” The pirate gave him the choice. Hook allowed him to back out if he so chose. He was too far gone to even consider it by that point.

            “Yes,” he answered, mentally cringing at the pathetic sound. He moved to kiss the throat before him, climbing atop the captain and providing more access to his crotch. Hook gave a pleased little hum as he released their erections into the cool night air.

            Rumplestiltskin let out a sharp gasp as his length was released from its confines; the heady smell of arousal permeating the air. He heard a throaty chuckle and, before he could make a cutting remark, his lips were occupied with Hook’s.

 

They kissed slowly and deeply, rutting against each other, allowing hands to roam once more.

X

Killian held the narrow hips tight, encouraging their owner to frot against him, their shafts sliding against each other, becoming slick with pre-ejaculate.

 

He didn’t know what to do with his hook, so dug it into the dirt beneath them.

            As he did so, however, Rumplestiltskin hauled him into a sitting position, providing more friction as they ground their hips together.

            “More,” he found himself saying, as he trailed kisses along the glittering throat, nipping the clavicle harshly. He received only a chuckle as reply, deciding it was up to him to bring them to their peak.

 

He spat inelegantly into his hand, leaving the other’s mouth to wander once more, and took their arousals together.

            The throaty moan and buck of hips made him grin as he pumped slowly, deliberately teasing a reaction from the imp in his lap.

 

Impatient little whines were his reward as Rumplestiltskin ripped open his tunic to explore further with his lips and tongue.

            When he found a nipple, Hook rewarded him with a harsh squeeze to the head of his cock, making him squirm and moan all the more.

            “Yes,” Rumplestiltskin hissed his pleasure, bucking his hips into Killian’s hand.

X

Rumplestiltskin writhed in the captain’s lap, humping into his hand. He could feel his peak nearing; just a little longer…

 

Hook’s hand sped up, his hips bucking to meet Rumplestiltskin’s. His lips found their way back to the imp’s, using the cool side of his hook to move his face to his own.

            Their eyes met; deep, dark brown and pale, forget-me-not blue locking together. Rumplestiltskin’s arms wrapped around the pirate, drawing him in for another deep, harsh kiss as they finally fell over the edge of oblivion, guttural moans and sharp breathing penetrating the silence.

X

Huffing contentedly, Hook nuzzled his face into the sorcerer’s neck, languidly kissing the gold speckled flesh.

            The hands retracted from around his neck and slowly traced down to his chest, fixing the collar of his rumpled tunic.

            He replaced their sated members and left the laces to the one with two hands.

 

They said nothing as they lay down, side-by-side, in the leaf litter and dozed under the stars.


End file.
